Milkshake
by PJTL156
Summary: Finch sits at his favorite diner drinking tea, reading a book, and relaxing. That is until Reese shows up and orders a milkshake of all things. Rinch. Rated T first chapter, will be M afterwords.


**I got bored a couple days ago and wrote this up at 3 in the morning, and today I fixed it up. :D I swear I never sleep anymore. XD Haha. Anyway, this is just a short little thing I came up with while working on my much longer multi chap's and oneshots. It didn't fit with anything else of mine, and I decided it could make it stand on its own. :) Hope you like it, and don't forget to review. ;)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Person of Interest, but I sure wish I did. ;D**

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><p><span>Milkshake<span>

Finch sits alone at his favorite diner. It's the same one that Reese had found him at a few short months ago. All he orders is a cup of steaming hot tea. For some reason he wasn't in the mood for his usual. He blows over the rim as he takes a sip. A book sits on the table while he skims over the words effortlessly. Before he knows it there's another person sitting across from him. He doesn't even have to look up. Finch already senses who it is. _Must he _always_ follow me?_

"So, do you come here often?" Reese asks. At that Finch did look up.

"That sounded like a pathetic excuse for a pickup line, or a first date question, Mr. Reese. And you know damn well that I do." Reese gives him a small crooked smile. Finch isn't exactly sure why, but he does it often enough that he's almost used to it by now.

"Does that mean this is our first date, _Harold_?" Reese draws his name out more than necessary. Though Finch's heart skips a beat he doesn't show anything but his usual expression. Instead he just takes a sip of tea and glances down at his book, though he has no intention of reading it now.

"No, but I'll pay as usual, Mr. Reese."

"Always a gentleman."

"One of us has to be," Finch retorts looking up; his tone slightly more playful than before. Reese smiles despite himself. He loved it when Finch teased him. He assumed it wasn't out of malice, though sometimes he couldn't quite tell. _He's not the type of guy who acts like a jerk just for the hell of it, I'm sure. But does he tease me for the same reason I tease him? If I could get somewhere with this I could find out._

"I'm gentle and a man. Doesn't that count?"

"No," he says slightly annoyed with the conversation, but still enjoying Reese's company. "And you're hardly gentle." As much as it bothered Harold he was getting used to their flirtatious banter. It was something he actually started to look forward to.

"Oh, I can be _very_ gentle when I have to be, Harold. You just don't know it… yet." Something in his eyes made Finch uncomfortably shift in his seat. _Please don't tell me that was a suggestive comment._

Their waitress comes over finally realizing that someone else was at the table, which inadvertently saves Finch from the conversation. Reese places his order of coffee and a milkshake. Harold thought he heard wrong. Once she leaves he asks, "A _milkshake_?" Reese cocks his head slightly and gives him a confused look. _Why does he care what I eat?_

"What?" John asks wanting to know the answer. The frazzled looked on Finch made him want to burst out laughing. It was one of his favorite looks on the man.

"Since when do you eat milkshakes; and for lunch of all things?"

"I don't know, _mom_," he jabs out of fun. It irks Finch more than he lets on. Reese was liking their new conversation much better than the previous one. _Too bad I don't have a camera._

"Don't be condescending, Mr. Reese."

"Do you want a straw, too?" he says sounding innocent enough while changing the subject. Finch knows better than to think of anything Reese says as innocent.

"Sorry?" he asks hoping he will elaborate. _There's no way you just asked me to share a milkshake with you in a public restaurant._

"Ma'am?" Reese says waving to their waitress. The young blonde comes over hoping she's not in trouble.

"Yes?"

"Could we get two straws instead of one?"

"Sure," she chirps turning to Finch and giving him a cute smile. He just looks away completely embarrassed. Reese almost feels bad about asking. Almost. For once he was getting somewhere, and he wasn't about to stop now.

Finch leans his head against his hands and props his elbows up on the table. He rubs his brow in a soothing manner, though the attempt doesn't do what it's intended. Reese reaches across the table and is suddenly touching his arm. Their skin barely grazes before Finch gasps and pulls away. His whole body freezes as he looks horrified at John. Reese frowns. _Why is he so afraid? Doesn't he trust me? Does he not feel the same way about me as I do about him? _Now John regrets the touch. _You spooked him_, he yells at himself internally. _How the hell do I fix this?_

"I shouldn't have done that, Finch. I'm sorry." He retracts his hand, becoming slightly embarrassed himself.

"It's alright, John. I don't really mind." Reese just stares at him in disbelief. He tries to analyze his face, but it's not the easiest thing to do. It's the first time he ever doubted if Finch was being truthful. Finch himself wasn't sure if he believed his own words.

"That's not what your face said." Reese looked hurt by the rejection, which made Finch's heart sink. He wasn't used to any sign of affection; especially not from another man. He knew he had to say something to get out of the doghouse. Finch gulps and is sure he's turning red from what he's about to say.

"Sometimes your face doesn't agree with your heart." Reese's eyes widen slightly. _Was that a confession? _He figured that was the closest he would ever get to one, so he gladly accepted it. Anything from Finch was well received. Before he gets the chance to speak the woman comes back with the chocolate shake and sits it in front of them. Again Harold is saved.

"Thank you," they say in unison to the blonde, then turn their attention towards each other. The young woman walks away smiling at the pair.

"Jinx," John says with a wide, childlike smile. Finch gives him his own small one in return.

"_Really_, John? _Are_ we in Elementary school?"

"I've never been told I was mature." Finch's only response to that is a small, amused grunt, and a sip of his now cold tea. _Actually I think Finch is the only one who's ever called me immature_, Reese thinks. _But he'_s_ also_ _the only one I tease relentlessly, so I guess that makes sense_.

"Looks scrumptious," Reese says suddenly, twisting his smile. Finch gulped involuntarily. He wasn't quite sure if he was talking about the dessert since his eyes never left Finch. He assumed since it was Reese the comment wasn't about the shake. It didn't help that his eyes looked hungry, and it wasn't for food.

John's smile widens from the reaction he gave the other man. It was meant to be a flirtatious compliment, and he's glad to see it was taken as one. He picks up the other straw and casually offers it to Harold. Finch pauses. _Do I dare take it…?_ The dilemma could change the course of fate if he let it. _Or maybe I'm thinking too hard about all of this._ He gives himself a moment, then makes his decision. A much deeper smile comes to Harold's face. _Oh, what the hell. I can't be a philosopher all the time. You only live once._

"I agree. It does look _deliciously_ tasty," Finch says gazing at Reese with the biggest smile he had. It didn't take a genius to realize his intentions. Reese got a taste of his own medicine, and he was loving it. _Too bad I didn't get the hot fudge sundae. I could have fed him with a spoon and licked chocolate sauce off his face. _Though that was more of a fantasy, since they were still in a public place and it was Harold Finch of all people. But he did finally get his partner to loosen up a bit, so he couldn't complain. Something was better than nothing. Reese shakes the long piece of plastic at Finch that's still in his hands. It snaps him back into reality. Finch had been so caught up in his thoughts about what might happen next that he hadn't even realized he'd forgotten to grab it. _Here goes nothing_, Harold thinks, smiling much more sweetly as he extends his hand and takes the straw.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading. :D<strong>

**This will have another chapter or two, but I'd love suggestions. ;D Pretty please with a cherry on top? ;)**

**And does it ever fail that when you're having a conversation at a restaurant the waiter/waitress always comes over at the worst possible times? XD At least that's my experience. ;)**


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